


Breakfast Special

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: How Mulder and Scully play trivial pursuit. NSFW.





	

She walked into the bedroom and found him lying prostrate, diagonal and trouser-less across the bed. His head was hanging over the side and his shoulders were flexing rhythmically under his white tee, his feet flipping up and down, alternately.

‘Wow, Mulder,’ she said, raking her eyes up and down his body, ‘either you’re practising some new form of self-help meditation or you’ve been selected for the FBI swim team and you don’t have time to dig a pool to get your lengths in.’

His muffled laugh was raspy. ‘Wow, Scully,’ he said, lifting himself up and around in one stroke, ‘either you’re drunk way much earlier than I’ve ever seen you drunk before, or you’ve been studying at the Fox Mulder school of sarcasm for too long.’

‘You’ve never seen me drunk, Mulder.’ She walked around to other side of the bed and scanned the mess of files across the carpet. ‘And what the hell is all this?’

He rolled over again and flopped down against the mattress with an ‘oof’. ‘I have too seen you drunk.’

Folding her arms against her, she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. ‘When?’

‘After that movie, that ridiculous, humiliating movie. We had…’

‘The credit card and we drank a bottle of tequila and we…’

He grinned. ‘Yes, and we…’

She shifted on her feet and felt the heat of the blush rise up her chest. ‘I wasn’t drunk.’

‘You kept yelling out “ffffuck mmmeeeee, Fffoxy” and then in the morning I remember waking up to find you looking up at me from the end of the bed and whispering, “I wanna suck Spooky stupid.” It’s not something you can ever forget. Believe me.’

‘I did not say that, Mulder!’

‘You said it was the breakfast special. Or “shhhpeshalll”,’ he nodded. ‘You were still drunk the next morning, Scully.’

She sighed and sat down, flipping over a file on the floor. ‘Why do you have all these case files out, Mulder? We agreed we wouldn’t let the work get in the way at home this time round. No more darkness, remember?’

‘I was trying to remember where it was we saw those Mothmen.’

‘Leon County, Florida,’ she said. ‘Why, Mulder?’

He sat up again and rubbed his hands through his hair. ‘I just couldn’t remember. It was bugging me.’

‘We never did build that tower of furniture, did we?’

He grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. She caught it and pulled it to her chest.

‘Wanna do it now?’

‘No, I want to know the real reason you’re going through these files, Mulder.’

He threw another pillow at her. ‘You’re no fun, Dr Scully.’

‘That’s not what you said that night after the movie.’

‘Ha, you don’t remember anything about that, Scully. You were blind.’

She ran her tongue around her lips and let out a slightly irritated huff. ‘There are some parts that are so memorable that I shiver when I think about them.’ Her tone was low, breathy. ‘The way your voice hitched when you said my name during your first orgasm, almost like you were crying. And the way your fingers ran across my skin with such reverence that I felt like I’d been elevated to some higher platform, and the way you kissed me so fiercely that I could taste your love.’ She hooked her finger down the collar of his tee and leaned towards him.

‘What did it taste like, Scully?’

She kissed him, softly at first, then with more force, opening her lips and letting his tongue rake across her teeth. She sucked his bottom lip, as delicious now as it always had been. ‘Like sweet summer rain, homegrown strawberries, like honey from the comb, like heaven and dreams. It was forbidden but totally right, it was hot and molten but fresh, it was like nothing I expected but it felt like home.’

He pulled her against him and she felt her nipples harden. He groaned into her mouth.

‘What was the address where Tooms lived?’ He unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

‘What?’

‘Tooms, the liver-eating mutant.’

‘I know what he was, but why are you asking about his address?’

‘I’m testing you, Scully.’

‘On addresses in the X-Files?’

He opened her shirt and inhaled at the sight of her breasts rising over the lace of her bra. ‘Why not? It turns me on when we play trivial pursuit.’

‘Sixty-six Exeter Street, Baltimore.’ She nipped at his neck and he unclasped her bra. ‘What’s the prize, Mulder?’

‘The winner gets the breakfast shhhpeshalll,’ he said, waggling his eyebrows. He stroked his thumbs over her nipples. They tightened and he licked his lips. ‘What about the home of Chaco Chicken?’

She shuddered. ‘Somewhere in Arkansas…oh, Mulder.’ She twined his hair through her fingers as he bent to take a nipple in his mouth, exerting a light, maddening pressure. ‘Delaney? Delburn? Ahh, yes.’

He released her breast. ‘Ahh, no, Scully. Dudley. Dudley, Arkansas. Point one to me.’

‘This isn’t fair, Mulder. You’ve been studying.’

‘Your turn. Ask me something from one of your autopsies or something medical from your field reports.’

She pressed her lips together and let him take the other breast in his mouth. ‘What was the type of cancer that Leonard Betts’ mother had?’

He traced a path between her breasts and frowned in concentration. ‘A rhabdomyosarcoma.’

She let out a cross between a gasp and a giggle as his fingers tracked lower and circled her belly button. ‘How can you remember that?’

‘I wrote it down, in my notebook.’

She shrugged off her blouse, knelt up and hoicked his tee shirt over his head. She looked at his chest, his arms, his stomach, striped with muscle lines. The bulge in his boxers was evident and she reached out to rub her thumb over it.

He sucked in a breath. ‘Which hospital was I committed to, on the Pincus case?’

‘Calumet Mercy, Chicago,’ she said, dipping her fingers inside the waistband and brushing the tip of his cock. It was wet and she swirled the precum around with her thumb before kneeling up and pulling his boxers down.

‘Mmm,’ he whispered, ‘Mercy.’

‘Are you giving up, Mulder?’ she said, ‘because I haven’t even got started yet.’

One hand grasped the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his. Her breasts crushed against his bare chest. Her hands lost their grip on her prize but when he ground himself against her, she could feel his slickness against her tummy.

‘I don’t give up, Scully. You know that. Ask me another question.’ He pressed himself hard against her and she felt his cock twitch and spasm. She gripped his bare ass in her hands and ran her nails over the skin.

‘In my report into the deaths of Wallace and Angela Schiff, what was the name of the substance found on the remains?’

His hand wandered down her side from her ribcage, over the flare of her hip, down her thigh and around her stomach coming to a rest between them. She felt him touch his cock, tugging it sharply and moaning. She pushed her stomach forward, trapping his hand. She spread her legs slightly and he found her centre, rubbing the inside of his thumb against her until the pressure on her clit rose. His fingertips searched lower, sliding against her wetness. Her clit pulsed.

‘I don’t give a fuck what it was called Scully, but I know you’re going to tell me and I know that it’s going to make me so hard it’ll feel like I’m splitting open.’

She strained a laugh against his mouth, then pulled away to whisper in his ear. ‘Chitinase, Mulder. Chit – in – ase, do you like that?’

‘Say it again, Scully.’

She shifted so that his fingers sunk into her. ‘Chitinase. Pepsins. Trypsins. Ohhhh, Mulder, yes.’

‘Did you know the name of the fast food outlet in that case of the brain-eating proboscis monster in Costa Mesa, California was Lucky Boy?’ His chest heaved against hers and he peppered her face with urgent kisses.

She bobbed up and down on his fingers and nodded. ‘Yes, yes, Mulder, you are.’ She reached for his cock and slid it between her fist, pumping slowly at first.

‘And don’t you think it at all spooky and portentous that my two informants were called Deep Throat and X?’

‘What are you saying, Mulder? You want the breakfast special now? It’s not even dinner time?’

She bent down and swiped the tip of his cock with her tongue, rolling it around the head, flattening it underneath and holding it there, one hand resting on the top of it, the other cupping his balls. His fingers massaged her head and she took that as a sign to lower her lips further down, tightening them around its girth as he exhaled a juddery breath.

‘Oh God, Scully. You and your pouty mouth have been the fantasy of how many law enforcement officers over the years? Ohhhh yesssss…’

She let him go and looked up. ‘Is that a question?’

‘Noooo, really, it’s not…’

She rounded her lips and swallowed him, then drew them back up his length and pushed back down, humming. She repeated and repeated and he followed the movement of her head with his hands, thrusting up to meet her downward motion.

‘We always have had this way with communication, this rhythm. This…oh, Scully…this is exquisite teamwork. We…ahh.’

She massaged his balls and felt them begin to constrict. She pulled her mouth away and they both groaned. ‘You talk too much, Mulder. Just fuck me, Foxy. Right. Now.’

‘Yes, Dr Scully.’

He lay back and she climbed on top, sliding easily over him and moving her hips forward and back, up and down, round and round. Leaning over, she clasped his hands in hers and pushed them into the mattress. He licked the underside of her breast, grazed his teeth against her tender nipple, pulled it into her mouth. She kneaded her hands against his with the rhythm of her movements, clenching his cock inside her and loving the expression of surrender on his face. His mouth let go and he arched his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

She increased her pace, rocking her hips back and forth in an urgent rhythm. He extracted his hand to pinch her nipple and she threw her head back, allowing him access to her clit with the other hand. He pressed his thumb there, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

‘How does this feel, Scully?’

‘You feel like sweet summer rain, homegrown strawberries, like honey from the comb, like heaven and dreams. You feel forbidden but totally right, you feel hot and molten but fresh, you always feel like nothing I expect but you always feel like home, Mulder.’

The morning sun was grey and watery through the slats in the blind. The covers were tangled around them. Scully stirred first and nuzzled into Mulder’s side, taking some chest hair in her fingers and gently stroking it. He turned to kiss her hair.

‘No breakfast special, Scully?’ His voice was thick with fatigue. A little drunk-sounding.

‘Who won?’

He chuckled. ‘I’d say we both did.’

‘Well, we’ll have to share the prize then, Mulder.’

She knelt up, turned to face the end of the bed, straddled Mulder’s chest, took him into her mouth as she lowered herself over his face.


End file.
